It's Just Too Much
by the one a.m. writer
Summary: Castiel doesn't reciprocate Meg's feelings... that doesn't stop Meg from trying. T for cursing


_Castiel doesn't reciprocate Meg's feelings... that doesn't stop Meg from trying._

* * *

It started in high school. It started when I was introduced to him.

Well, not quite "introduced"…

We are rivals by design. The basketball girls (me) are not supposed to be friends with those on academic league (him). The band kids (me, I play flute) are not supposed to like the orchestra kids (him, he plays cello). The only time I really get to see him is in math class, and we get along all right, although he is constantly one step ahead of me and- well- I am competitive.

I hope our rivalry is a friendly one.

I know I do all I can to get his attention. From that first day in math class-

"Hello! I'm Meg."

"Hello." _(Uninterestedly.)_ "I'm Castiel."

-just like that… I tried my best to grab his attention and tear it away from his other friends, Gabe and Balth and Dean and Sam and Kevin. Charlie hung out with them sometimes, too. She was female, so she wasn't immediately part of this group, but she insinuated herself into conversations with friendly ease and left when she chose, and they all liked her.

I tried! I tried to be friends with them! I think all of them looked down on me. Just a tad.

It was painful.

His eyes- wow. His eyes. His voice. His hair. Everything. Couldn't he notice me? Please? Couldn't he want to be with me?

"Hey, Band Kid," Dean smirked, lounging next to my angel. "What's up?"

"Hey, Dean," I said. "Not much. Weird math class, huh?"

"Trigonometry!" Dean exclaimed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "I can't."

"All we had to do was memorize the unit circle," Castiel said.

"Eeeeh. Fuck trig."

Castiel smiled _at me he smiled at me he smiled_ "So, did you find it difficult?"

"It's just patterns," I pontificated.

"Yes. Root three, root two, root one-"

"All over two, and the reverse for sine-"

We began to list the circle, guiding each other through the math. This was conversation; it was fun!

(It was hollow, honestly.)

I wanted to sit and talk about the stars or some shit, not… not… trigonometry.

"So, I'll see you at the concert, right?" The school concert. The band played before the orchestra.

"Of course," Castiel said.

"How are your songs going?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Which one's your favorite?"

"The first one."

"What's it called?" This felt like an interrogation!

"Lion City."

"That sounds really cool. What's it like?"

"Very tonal and odd."

Dean was watching this like a tennis match with an odd grin on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Glissandos, you know. Tremolos, body percussion."

"What's those?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Glissandos are where you slide your finger up the fingerboard-" He demonstrated in midair. "Tremolos are like this-" He indicated, by shaking his hand quickly, the motion of his bow. "Body percussion is… percussion. With your body." He stomped his foot.

"Oooh. So you got some cool parts then."

"Yes, I suppose. For once, my part is better than the violins." Here, he shot a glance at Dean, and I suddenly got the feeling that I was intruding on an inside joke.

Dean shook his head. "You're jealous because you can't play as fast."

"I'm faster than you."

"No, you're not."

I winced. "Uh. Gotta run. Class."

"Bye," they chorused.

How do I get his attention?

… **..**

The music room was bursting with students. Inside was hot and loud, the blaring of trumpets and the screech of violins punctuated by the crashing of cymbals and some fuck hitting the goddamn chimes again. The wail of my flute joined the mess, but was cut off when I saw him enter the room.

Wow.

Wow.

Black dress pants. Black button down. Immaculate. A sports jacket. A blue tie, backwards. It brought out his eyes. _I should fix the tie for him._

My gaze traveled from the hair he had still not managed to calm to the shiny shoes.

"You look nice," I said. I looked nice too, having spent a long time on my outfit and makeup.

Castiel said as much.

 _I should fix the tie for him._

I watched his eyes. To my dismay, they did not sink to my low neckline accented with glittering gold. I was showing off, I admit, but it wasn't working.

"Good luck," I said.

"You too, Meg."

 _I should fix the tie for him._

Castiel became very focused on extracting his cello from its case. It was almost captivating to watch how carefully he undid each clasp, pulled the thing out, pulled the bow out, extended the endpin, applied rosin, and tuned- always making it seem as if whatever he was doing had his full attention and was more important than anything else in the world.

It might be important to note that I only knew these terms because I listened almost obsessively when Dean and Castiel spoke about music, hoping to be able to connect. The other day in math class, my pseudoknowledge failed.

 _I should fix the tie._ "Hey, Castiel-"

Dean burst in, button down shirt somewhat askew. He took out his violin without the care that Castiel bestowed upon his instrument. It was a tool to him like it was a tool to me.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas. You got your tie backwards."

Cas blushed and raised his hands to fumble with the tie. Dean rolled his eyes and did it for him with practiced efficiency.

 _I should have- Fuck._

In return, Castiel ran a critical eye over Dean. "Your buttons are wrong."

"Are they?" Dean sounded dismayed.

"How late were you getting home?"

"Sam had his nerd competition. I had to drive home from that. And then I had to eat."

"Aha."

Dean fixed the last button on his shirt. "Look good?" he asked, turning.

"It looks fine. Tune your violin."

Carefully, I blew an A so he could tune to that. Dean nodded at me. "That an A?"

"Yeah."

I resumed my note, and Dean began to tune.

"Most of the strings are hanging out in the next room over. It's band-kid-free."

"I will come." Castiel picked up his things, and there he went.

Sadly, I puffed out a little minor scale.

… **..**

"It's raining."

"Yeah, Azazel, it is."

"Would it kill you to call me Dad? Take an umbrella."

"Fine. _Dad._ I'm going."

Castiel emerged from his car right when I walked up to it. Oh, what fortune! I offered him my umbrella.

"Thank you, Meg," he said, and allowed me to stand next to him, holding the umbrella over both of us.

Dean, seeing us from under the shelter of the hallway roof, made heart hands. I grinned.

The joke was lost on Castiel.

I put down the umbrella after we reached the shelter… and the bell rang, so I walked to class alone.

… **..**

I made it my mission that day, and when it rained every day for the next week, to seek out Castiel and accompany him across the gaps in the hallway. I think he appreciated the gesture.

… **..**

It wasn't working. Nothing was working. I don't know what to do to get his attention.

I've started being very obvious. I wear lower and lower cut shirts, and take every opportunity to bend down in front of him, but I don't think he's getting the memo.

I started nudging him, physically touching him, on his shoulder, whatever. Not groping him, just touching.

Dean knows. But not Castiel.

… **..**

There is a Sadie Hawkins dance this winter, and I plan to ask Castiel.

He was by his lockers when I caught up with him. "Can I walk with you?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Hey, so, you know the school is having a Sadie's dance…"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to go with me."

"As friends?"

Stab me in the fucking heart.

"Uh. Yeah. Friends."

"Okay."

We went to dinner beforehand. Not me and Castiel… It was me and Castiel and Dean and Gabe and Balth and Charlie and Kevin and Charlie's date Glinda.

I take what I get, I supposed.

We talked and laughed, then finally went to the dance itself. I asked Castiel to dance.

"I know how to waltz," he said.

So we waltzed. I'm a terrible waltzer, stepping on his feet and everything.

"May I have this dance?" Charlie asked, spinning in. I smiled mirthlessly and watched her waltz him away.

She is a good waltzer.

"So. Interested in him, are you?" Dean asked.

"What?" I said, feigning surprise. Dean was seated next to me.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes. He's cute."

"Careful," Dean warned.

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't always get stuff. Don't take advantage of him, I swear to God."

"I won't," I promised.

… **..**

It was very soon after that, and probably inspired by that comment, that I realized I could get away with _murder._

Castiel accepted hugs without comment. He allowed my hand to rest on his knees when we sat close together (which was whenever I could manage). I chanced a friendly sort of kiss on the cheek, although he didn't respond at all to that, and it was just painful for me, because I wasn't sure I could stop myself from forcefully turning it into something more.

I was careful around Dean. Dean did not let me get away with murder. He glared at me for standing side to side with Castiel.

Was I taking advantage of him?

No. We weren't even doing anything, for Christ's sake.

I carried things for him and offered to help him and was generally there for him. I think he was warming up to me, at least. I caught careful smiles in my direction.

So I kept going.

Always, I chanced more.

… **..**

I'm gonna do it.

"Hey, Castiel."

"Hey, Meg."

"So, I've been thinking…"

Castiel looked at me calmly, quietly.

"Well, you know- I just want to say you're a great person, Castiel. I really like you."

"Thank you…"

"What I wanted to know is- do you like me too?"

Finally! Finally I had the guts! Now, he just says yes-

"You're a good friend, Meg."

 _Oof._

"Well-" Damned if I was giving up- "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"I-" Suddenly Castiel seemed a deer in the headlights.

I waited patiently.

"I have to go work with a teacher. I'm really sorry. I'll text you later."

 _He ran._

... **..**

That wasn't a no.

The next day at school, I walked up to him, slinging my arms around him like I did, trying to get him to like me.

"Hi! Thought about what I said?" I asked, looking up into his eyes.

But Dean- oh! Shit! Dean! interrupted. "Meg!"

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Castiel, I'll meet you in Spanish class." Dean sent Castiel a wink.

And just like that, Dean tore Castiel from me, just when I was going to score a date with my angel. Castiel walked off. Dean's hands closed around my wrist. His grip was tight enough that I could feel my bones.

He dragged me away.

"I can't believe you!" Dean hissed.

"Whaaaat?"

"Fuck off! He doesn't want you! I joked about it, but he doesn't. fucking. want you!"

"He never said no," I protested.

"Because he doesn't actually know what's happening, you understand? I asked him. He talked. He thinks you're being friendly. That right there- that's not friendly. That's an invasion of personal space. It was making him uncomfortable."

"Are you his spokesperson now?" I spat. "The angel on his shoulder?"

"I'm his friend. I could tell him what you've been doing, and I could tell him to tell you himself, but I get the feeling you don't really want that. Easier this way."

I suppose. Without closure from Castiel, I had hope.

"Be careful, Meg."

I nodded, and ran away.

... **.. _transition_..**...

Whatever Dean had said while I was in the Spanish classroom- it worked.

She had been all over me, a cheap, pathetic woman. I hadn't known. Her touches on my knees were odd and uncomfortable, but how do I ask her to stop? Her constant hugs that I never reciprocated, the forced conversation I did my best to escape- I was trapped, a seemingly normal person with the gun under the jacket held to my back. When is enough enough? When am I allowed to say no?

A conversation had gone as follows:

"I think she likes me."

"Meg?"

"I think she's attracted to me."

"She is! Goddamn. You're not observant at all."

"What?"

"She's been throwing herself at you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. She stands all close to you-"

"She hugs me a lot."

"What?"

"Yes. She also puts her hand on my knee. That's a weird sensation."

"Oh. That bitch."

" _Dean!_ "

"She isn't allowed to do that to you. I told her not to take advantage."

"What is she doing wrong? She is being friendly-"

"Fuck, Cas. That's anything but friendly. She's making a move on you."

"I'm not interested!"

"So tell her so."

"But…"

"But…?"

"…It will be so awkward…"

"Then I'll tell her. Goddamn. That whore."

" _Dean!_ "

"Sorry! Look, she's taking advantage of you! I'll fix this tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dean."

After it all, I felt bad.

Meg was a nice girl. Sure, we weren't friends, but she was okay. She was an acquaintance.

I didn't want to break her heart like that- I wasn't convinced she was being anything but friendly.

When had Meg treated me with anything but kindness?

… **..**

She offered me an umbrella. It was raining again. We were standing outside, and I was going to be soaked.

 _She's trying to make a move on you._

Her hand moved to my bicep. _She's trying to make a move on you._ I twisted, 'accidentally' wrenching my arm away.

She pressed herself to my side. "You want to share my umbrella?"

 _She's taking advantage of you!_

 _Is she really?_

 _Yeah! Yeah, she is! If you're uncomfortable…_

 _I can say-_

"No. I'm fine."

"You'll be soaked!"

"I like the rain," I said, which wasn't a lie.

"I don't mind-"

Suddenly, her very presence was constricting- I could feel her leaning toward me, reaching out for me, her hand coming up once more-

"You like me, do you not?" I asked quickly. "You want to be in a relationship with me."

Surprised, she stopped and affirmed that.

"I- I don't. And I won't. I apologize. You should find someone more deserving of your time."

She looked somewhat stricken.

"Huh. So Dean wasn't just being… overprotect-"

"I'm sorry," I said, and escaped into the rain, walking away circling back to the end of the group, hiding among people I knew- they weren't good friends, they weren't good people, but I could trust them to ignore me.

… **..**

"I didn't realize."

"You didn't realize she was being totally inappropriate?"

"No. I didn't."

The force of it hit me.

"She was- she was-

"I know."

"I just let her-"

"I know. Jesus, Cas. You look like you're about to cry."

"Should I be scared of her?"

"Why?"

"Because I am."

Dean shrugged. "'S okay."

"I don't think I'll let that happen again."

"Good idea."

* * *

 **Fun Fact about this story:**

 **Most of these things actually happened to me. Cas is me, although Dean is a mix of several people at different times.**

 **Note from your friendly author: Writing is an outlet.**


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